


That One Time Zatanna Went to Vegas With the Devil

by jessequicksters



Series: Devil's Coven [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League Dark, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anaemic Zatanna, Crossover, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Multiverse, Road Trips, Romantic Fluff, the struggles of a long-distance relationship, their relationship vibe is: sugar sweet and unable to keep their hands off each other at all times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: Lucifer takes Zatanna on a surprise road trip to Vegas. It's a night of reckless driving, candy-shopping in convenience stores, high-stakes gambling and hotel-shenanigans.For two people who live Earths apart, the trip is exactly what the (witch) doctor ordered.
Relationships: John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (TV)/Zatanna Zatara (Background), Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Zatanna Zatara
Series: Devil's Coven [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989967
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	That One Time Zatanna Went to Vegas With the Devil

“I can’t believe we’re going to Vegas. I came all the way from another Earth to see you and we’re going to _Vegas_ ,” Zatanna says, resting her arm over the window frame of Lucifer’s open-top Corvette.

“Well, darling, where else would I take you?” Lucifer purrs, with one hand on the wheel and the other playfully pinching Zatanna’s chin. “Besides, isn’t Sin City a magician’s playground?”

“It is,” Zatanna replies. “For work.”

“Ah, you remind me of the Detective sometimes—all work and no play.”

Lucifer grins and punches down on the gas without warning.

The car jerks forward as Zatanna’s head tips forward before the wind blows the hair out of her face again. The skies are rolling so fast they look like a conveyor belt of moving stars. Well, this is certainly one way to go through Highway 15: twice over the speed limit.

They meet a row of trucks in front of them: there are two, probably three of them, moving painfully slowly.

“Don’t do that—“ Zatanna says pre-emptively, as Lucifer straightens himself up and switches lane to overtake them.

Zatanna tends to trust Lucifer with most things, even bad ideas. Sticking by an immortal celestial is probably the safest thing to do in most situations, really, even when it seems like they're taking you to the brink of death. The car accelerates forward even faster—she doesn’t even want to glance at the speedometer—and she gets hit with the blaring headlights of the incoming cars from the opposite direction.

“Lucifer!” she holds on tight, as he lets out a jubilant laugh.

He holds her hand as he finally overtakes the last of the trucks and swerves back onto their lane. Zatanna feels the blood slowly coming back to her face as she lets out a sigh of relief. She wants to laugh, or cry, maybe—but she feels steady, with his hand clasping tightly over hers on her lap.

“See? I’ve always said that thrills are good for the soul, wouldn’t you say?” He looks over to her, doting eyes bright in the night. “I would never let anything bad happen, especially not to you, my darling.”

-

Lucifer pulls over by a low-lit convenience store, with not another car in sight in the parking lot. Next to it, appears to be a salt-lake bed resting quietly in the night. Zatanna senses something in the air—she isn’t sure exactly what. A touch of magic, maybe.

She knows there are covens on these lands, if this Earth is anything like hers. And so far, most things have been the same, except for the usual characters they bump into in their superheroic circles: everyone in the Justice League doesn’t exist here, for one thing.

In the entire multiverse, there's only one Devil, yet he’s somehow chosen to reside on the Earth most likely to be described as mundane, without the perils and the dramatics of many others. But magic is still seeped within the fabric of every plane of existence, every reality—even at a half-abandoned pit stop on the way to Vegas.

“What are we shopping for?” Lucifer says as they push through the door, skimming through the aisles. “Some tequila? Local cigar, maybe?”

Zatanna kneels down and reaches for a handful of jellybeans, cereal bars, and one of those ring pop candies that boys used to gift her in school to try to propose to her.

“Oh!” Lucifer says, moving out of the way as she carries her bag of sugar in her arms. “I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth, Miss Zatara.”

She smiles whenever he calls her that. It’s an endearing habit that he can’t seem to break, despite her best efforts.

“Not so much a sweet tooth, just low blood pressure. Keeps the sugar going in my head, or I might faint the next time you decide to go two hundred miles an hour. Also, these breakfast cereals are fortified with iron. Haven’t been taking my supplements for my anaemia.”

Lucifer tails her to the counter, where she conjures her top hat as the cashier scans the items without even a second glance.

“You’re—anaemic?” Lucifer asks, bewildered.

“Oh, yeah,” Zatanna says, sweeping all of her candy into her top hat, before putting it back onto her head. She thanks the cashier politely and leads Lucifer out the door.

As they get back to the car, Lucifer’s hand lingers on the gear handle as Zatanna jumps in, rifling through her stash of candy in her hat.

“Can’t you heal yourself? You’ve cured me—and John—of lots of ails.”

“Doesn’t work that way. Not when it’s not a one-time fix. We couldn’t cure John of lung cancer, remember? You literally had to make a deal with the Angel of Death to do that.”

“Yes, but I can surely do the same for you—”

Zatanna rests a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Lucifer, it’s very sweet of you to worry about me, but I’ve been living with this my whole life. It’s not going to kill me. In the meantime, I’ve got something for you.”

His eyes light up, “Oh, Miss Zatara, surely not out _here_.”

Zatanna pulls out the ring pop candy, tearing open its plastic wrapping. She takes his hand and slides the shiny green ring onto his finger. She leans down to lick a stripe on the sour apple-flavoured gem, before pulling him in for a light kiss.

“When in Vegas,” she says.

“We're not quite there yet,” Lucifer purrs.

“Well then, drive faster, Mr. Morningstar.”

-

They arrive in Vegas in record-time. Lucifer pays off far too many cops to count, while Zatanna sits in the passenger’s seat with her top hat tilted down and a cloaking spell shrouding her. Not that there’s any record of a Zatanna Zatara on this Earth for them to even charge her with, but she’d rather stay a visiting ghost for now.

It’s straight to the casinos, as soon as they drop off their bags at the hotel concierge.

“Seriously?” Zatanna laughs, watching the men taking away their bags. She clears her throat and drops her voice, attempting to make a point about something, “You do realize how wildly unethical it is for _you_ and _I_ to be gambling.”

No one’s ever managed to beat Zatanna in a straight game of cards since she was about six. It’s probably why the thought of doing the whole Vegas shebang has always been comical to her.

Lucifer presses his palms together and gestures at her. “You know I thought you’d say something along those lines, but don’t worry. We’re not gambling for money, rather to get something back that was stolen from me.”

Ooh. Now that sounded much more agreeable (and interesting). Who doesn’t love a good high-stakes game?

“Why bring me along?” she asks.

“I may have been banned from placing bets at this establishment—long story, not that interesting—but, there’s nothing stopping me from bringing someone else to earn back my winnings for me while I sit back and watch.”

She takes a step forward, looking up. He’s still so much taller than her, even with her heels.

“You know you’ll owe me for this, right?”

He brushes her hair away from her face. “Oh, I am counting on it.”

-

It’s four in the morning and Zatanna and Lucifer have been kissing on the red-quilted sofa next to the window for approximately twenty minutes, messily combing through each other’s hair with their fingers; glassy-eyed and flush red from the array of drinks they were serving at the casino; and still—somehow, with all of their clothes still intact.

Lucifer is the one to stop them, and as their lips pull away, Zatanna is suddenly aware of how satisfyingly numb hers feel. “Bed?”

She shrugs. “Perfectly good sofa.”

They both turn their heads to the bed, barely even five feet away.

“Not for what I’m about to do to you,” Lucifer says, pupils darkening.

“Well, in _that_ case.”

Lucifer picks her up, as she wraps her legs comfortably around his hips—but the doorbell suddenly rings.

“Who—”

Zatanna interrupts him. “Oh, that’s my takeout!”

“You ordered food?” Lucifer looks at her. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were complaining about the Bible on the bedside table, now will you get the door?”

“Wait a minute, how on Earth did you manage to pick up the phone without me noti—”

 _“Nepo rood,”_ Zatanna calls out as the door flies open and Lucifer swings them both around to face the young man with the box. She waves at the man with one arm, while the other is still clutching onto the back of Lucifer's neck. “Hi! Please feel free to leave it on the floor. Tip’s on the table. Yes. Thanks so much.”

After the man shuts the door again, Lucifer turns back to face Zatanna, still not letting this go.

“Well, what did you order?”

Okay, so this part was a little embarrassing.

“Caesar salad?” It was a _very_ specific craving, all right.

“Unbelievable.”

-

At breakfast in bed, over mimosas and fruit pancakes, Zatanna turns to Lucifer and asks, “You really didn’t know I was anaemic?”

He blinks, still barely awake. “Why, was I supposed to?”

“It’s a witch thing, surely you knew. Blood pacts for the Devil?”

Lucifer looks like someone who’s just been struck with a divine revelation.

“Oh, my memories of the past few centuries are just now coming back to me.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Traded our blood for magic back in the day. Made our gifts more potent. It’s in our lineage, though you won’t see the medical journals writing papers about us. That’s why most witches love entrails, organ meats, and the like. Livers, especially. My dad used to eat those things like, every day.”

Lucifer chuckles. “Yet, you’ve made your life much more difficult by choosing to be a vegetarian.”

Zatanna pours the blueberry sauce over their pancakes, but it spills over and onto the sheets: the wine-red colour seeping into the white.

“Mmm, there are plenty of difficult choices in life, but not this,” she smiles, placing a kiss on his shoulder, then on his collarbone.

“I believe you’re quite right,” Lucifer sighs contentedly.

She nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck. He strokes her head, easy and gentle.

She remembers the feeling long after, even when they’re Earths apart and she’s sipping mimosas in bed alone again.

The next time she performs a set in Vegas, she’s hanging upside down in a tightly locked crate, about to be sawed in half. Everyone’s holding their breath in suspense—but she suddenly sees a familiar pair of eyes in the front row of the crowd, flashing red just as she’s meant to deliver her cue for this next part.

**Author's Note:**

> just came to say that little mix's 'beep beep' is 100% their vibe and I will not be taking any notes


End file.
